The Love That Never Should Have Been

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Gay and Lesbian  |  House: Booksie Classic

Chapter 18 (v.1)

Submitted: July 21, 2013

Reads: 56

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Submitted: July 21, 2013



John lay in the emergency room operation wing. But he didn’t know it. He was in a lovely dream. Surrounding him was green grass and rolling hills. The sky was a deep blue and there was a slight breeze. Laying down in the tall grass he just breathed in nature’s air.


Snapping his head up, he looked all around and to the hills. Behind him he could feel someone looking at him but for some reason he couldn’t turn around. He felt the breath of the person behind him and was completely aware who it was.

“Do you remember me John?”

He remembered that voice as it twirled into his ears. Straining his body he tried to turn but he was frozen and couldn’t move. Damn it he had to move and see that smug face.

When he felt the arms come around him he felt home and he felt something melt inside his heart. “Oh Jason.” The magnificent face came over his right shoulder and captured his mouth. The kiss was so magical and made the setting of the dream change. Now John heard the crackling of a fire and saw a house he had known as it burned. He had been inside that night but now he stood outside and watched as the house caved in; killing his lover of the time, Jason Harris. Countless nights afterwards he had cried himself to sleep. The police in that podunk town in Oklahoma never found the killer. So he left that town and all its memories. He couldn’t stand the nights when he looked at the bed next to him and saw an empty spot. John’s heart had never healed since that night. As he stood outside the house he saw the fire department race around the corner ten minutes too late. All they would find was John crying on the lawn behind the house where Jason had thrown him out of the house seconds before it caved in on him. Just as that night John stood and watched emergency crews douse the flames and cart out Jason’s charred lifeless body. He cried where he stood, only no one reached out to him like the neighbors did to the John with smoke inhalation. Still he was grateful for those people’s efforts to help him. Making a mental note to visit them he walked away from the scene and the memory. When he saw a blurry view of an operating room he ran for it.

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